


Wrapped Around Her

by Betz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Silencio, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betz/pseuds/Betz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My answer to a 2014 Silencio prompt: Severus and Hermione encounter each other in a noisy bar. Neither of them came there to mingle; neither of them wants to leave.</p>
<p>Completed one-shot. Silencio is an HP centric dialogue free challenge fest on Live Journal. Main rule of Silencio: No dialogue allowed. None. No psychic communication, no inner dialogue. No narrated dialogue. No letters or epistolary fanworks. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Oh, and a 5,000 word limit. http://hp-silencio.livejournal.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrapped Around Her

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
>  **Prompt Number & Author**: #9 https://sites.google.com/site/hpsilencio/prompts by stgulik  
>  **Author Notes** : Thank you, stgulik, for the prompt; and my beta, JuneW, for her wonderful beta work and suggestions – especially the title. The prompt originally suggested a “club,” but I made it a bar, since I just couldn't imagine Snape in a club.

It was a rebirth. Somehow, Severus Snape survived Nagini's attack to come back a new man, reshaped and remolded by the fact he had literally died and come back. The brooding Potions master was still the same person, but in the process of crossing back over from death he had cast off some of his insecurities and worries that had weighed him down like an anchor, dragging him to the depths of depression and self-loathing. 

He still loved Lily, but he was no longer adverse to having his bed occupied now and then by the odd witch, lured by his recent celebrity. The accolades, the praise from the lips of Potter himself, and the Order of Merlin, First Class, certainly were a large part behind his renaissance, having finally received the recognition he felt he richly deserved. They were even coming out with a Chocolate Frog card of him.

As a way to reconcile the half-Muggle part of himself that he had long denied, Severus decided to explore their world. He had found a Muggle bar in the east end of London, in a neighborhood that was in the middle of being re-gentrified. 

In a booth toward the back, away from the bar, Severus could sit and drink reasonably priced pints of good stout, alone with his thoughts while music from the 1970's played. The bar's attraction was that it only played music from the 70's, the bar's owner firmly in the frame of mind that it was the greatest decade where music was concerned. 

This was the music that Severus would have listened to growing up if he hadn't been so bitter and ashamed at certain parts of his heritage. Listening to the music was somehow a way to find some part of himself he’d lost along the way to becoming a man.

 

 

Hermione was busy getting ready, being dragged out for a night of drinking after breaking off her engagement with Ron a few months prior.

One of her childhood friends, among the very few that she had before going to Hogwarts, had reconnected with Hermione. Eliza had just moved back after finishing with her university studies and had heard from her parents about how Hermione had moved back as well.

Hermione had to keep many parts of her life secret from her Muggle friend, but she could go into details about why she broke off her engagement with Ron. She was weighed down by guilt over her decision to end a long relationship.

Eliza decided it was a change that was for the better, so it was time her friend got out of her funk and had some fun. Tonight wasn't necessarily to mingle, but to get a change of scenery instead of sitting home alone with her parents, hiding out from the world.

Looking herself over in the mirror, Hermione was amazed how well her mother's old vintage silk jersey Halston wrap dress fit her. Hermione's mother had splurged on the dress in 1977 and could not bear to part with it, having paid so much, so she had put it away in the attic, preserving it with mothballs. It only took a simple Charm from Hermione's wand to banish the smell. Given that Eliza was taking her to a 1970's bar, she figured it would be appropriate wear. She added a spritz of Chanel perfume, another 1970’s icon.

After exiting the Tube station, it was a short walk to the bar. The music was blaring loudly out the door. Hermione was wondering if this was such a good idea, but decided that she would stop being a stick in the mud and have a good time that night. It was a time for new beginnings and forgetting her troubles for once.

 

 

The waitress had just brought Severus a second pint, and he tipped her well, given that she bent over when handing him his drink. She always gave him a nice view down the front of her cleavage. While watching her sashay back towards the bar, admiring the rear view, Severus' eye caught sight of two more attractive looking young women enter the establishment.

One was a blonde who looked like she was already on the prowl. He had seen her in there a few times before, but she wasn't exactly his type, not that he was too picky either. The other was definitely more to his liking, especially wearing that silk jersey dress that hugged her form just so. But to his horror, when she turned around, he recognized the face. It was that Granger girl.

Severus felt that his little sanctuary had somehow been breached and soiled by the appearance of someone from the wizarding world. This was his place to escape without witches and wizards who wouldn't have given him the time of day before, simpering for his attentions now that he was famous. But Granger never changed her attitude towards him, treating him with the same respect after the war as before. Perhaps if he was lucky, she would not see him and he could go on drinking his pint in peace, lost in the sound of classic guitar riffs and the odd punk music song.

He had read in _The Daily Prophet_ about the breaking of her engagement from the Weasley boy, and he found smug satisfaction in that news. She was far too brilliant to be saddled down to a wizard with the intelligence of a flobberworm, and anything that gave misery to Ronald Weasley gave Severus a little bit of joy.

But there was no joy in the fact that Granger had wandered past the bar and found an empty booth directly opposite from his own. Granger's friend had already ditched her, having glommed onto some bloke with a lot of muscles, most probably with an inverse proportion to his brains.

Severus held his head down as if gazing into his half-downed pint, glancing up through his curtain of black hair. Granger was settling into her seat, and the waitress with the generous assets was taking her drink order.

Suddenly, Severus realized he was the one who was not going to hide. This was his bar, this was his turf, and he wasn't about to give it up to this interloper. If anything, he might just scare her away, to be left alone once more.

Raising his head, he gazed with intensity across the aisle to the booth opposite from his and met the eyes of Granger staring back. It gave him smug satisfaction to see the look of shock on the witch's face when she realized she wasn't the only magical person in this place. No doubt, she was slumming it to get away from others in their community, just like him.

 

 

Hermione couldn't believe it. The one place she thought she could get away from the wizarding world and let her hair hang down, literally, and she found Snape in a booth right across from her, giving her a stare that obviously was supposed to scare her off and leave him alone. She hadn't come to bother him, but she wasn't going to budge either.

Sitting up straighter, she met his eyes and glared back, her chin jutting up just a little bit in defiance, showing that she would not be intimidated by him. She had faced far worse things in this world than some wizard with an attitude.

 

 

There was something admirable in the way this Granger chit would not back down from him, but then again, she was a Gryffindor, not easily cowed by a hostile gaze. His eyes were drawn down from her eyes to the fact that – with her current posture and the single overhead light above her booth – Granger's nipples were casting a slight shadow, accentuated by the clingy drape of the silk jersey fabric.

Seeing how lovely they looked, the angle of the light accentuating the curve of her breasts as well, a smile slowly crept across his face. She certainly had a nice pair, and he could not begrudge her her attributes. If she wasn't going to leave, at least he could admire the view.

 

 

Hermione couldn't believe it, but Snape was staring at her tits. He was her former professor; he was twenty years older than her! She was no longer his student, but it momentarily perturbed her that Snape could view her in such a sexual manner. 

Upon reflection, it made Hermione realize that perhaps this was a sign that she was finally an adult. Hanging around with Harry and Ron, who were stuck in perpetual adolescence, it was hard for her to embrace the fact she was an adult. The way that Snape – someone who she admired and had known only as an adult – was gazing at her suddenly made her realize that she too was an adult, and therefore on equal footing with him.

She let her eyes roam about his form, suddenly willing to look at Snape as someone other than an authority figure she had constantly sought to garner approval from. He was wearing a Harley leather jacket, no doubt in an attempt to blend in with the local crowd. Black denim trousers, boots and a black T-shirt completed the rest of the outfit, making him look like he was someone from the punk or heavy-metal era who hadn't changed his sense of style. Hermione could almost imagine Snape when he was younger, had he been a Muggle, with a mohawk, shouting out lyrics about fucking the establishment. She knew he was a bibliophile like herself, but she could also sense the rebellious streak in him from the way he was not exactly a man of common convention.

The waitress came back with Hermione's drink, a glass of Scotch over the rocks. Whatever possessed Hermione to lift her glass in salute to Snape, she couldn't fathom. Perhaps it was to challenge him. It was her own way of trying to knock him off balance as much as his possessive gaze at her chest had unnerved her.

He lifted his own pint in equal measure, meeting her challenge. 

It was a battle of wills to see who would leave and who would stay.

Off to Hermione's left, in the middle of the bar next to the jukebox, was a small square of linoleum parquet flooring that served as a dance floor. It couldn't have been more than thirty-six square feet. Eliza was already dancing with the fellow with the large muscular frame. Eliza had mentioned that if she found anyone interesting that night, she might ditch Hermione and go back home with them. From the looks of it, Hermione was definitely on her own, especially with the way Eliza was suggestively grinding herself up against the bar patron she had latched onto.

 

 

Following Granger's gaze and where her attentions were focused, Severus saw that her blonde companion was going to get lucky later that night. Glancing back at the witch, he watched the way her eyes were fixed upon the pair. He wondered if she was disgusted or turned on by the couple’s gyrating dance that left little to either of their imaginations.

In an attempt to further rattle the Gryffindor, Severus quirked his brow, trying to gauge her reaction to the pair dry-humping on the tiny dance floor.

To his delight, Granger's eyes went wide and she suddenly appeared quite flustered, looking away in embarrassment. In the light that hung above her head, he could even discern the blush creeping down her cheeks and spread along her chest.

He knew that Granger and Weasley had cohabited before the ending of their engagement, and it surprised him that a witch who was definitely no longer a virgin could still blush like a maiden. Either she was prudish, or Weasley's aptitude in the bedroom had done little to broaden her sexual horizons.

Now he found a way to drive her away and get his privacy back. Severus would flirt with her until chasing her away, no doubt disgusted and agitated by having her old professor coming on to her.

Sitting back, Severus threw one arm along the back of the booth, while his other hand began to slowly play with his pint. One long finger ran around the rim of his pint in a slow circle, a lazy and confident smile set upon his mouth.

 

 

Hermione's eyes narrowed, wondering what Snape's game was. Was he trying to scare her away, or was he openly flirting with her? If he was trying to scare her, she was not going to leave. She had come to this bar in this grimy part of London to have a good time, though Snape was trying to do a good job of ruining her night with his bravado and territorial behavior. If he was flirting with her, it gave Hermione a secret thrill that someone else besides Ron had finally found her attractive. Snape had recently been known to bed some beautiful witches.

Suddenly, Hermione was not quite so put off by the idea of Snape being attracted to her. The fact that she could capture a mature man's attentions was a real confidence-booster. There was a certain amount of appeal to him, the longer she thought about it. There was definitely a bit of a bad-boy quality to Snape, and bad boys always had a habit of attracting good girls. Hermione was definitely a good girl.

Hermione let her eyes drop down to the drink in front of her, letting one finger slide casually up and down the side of it, playing with the condensation on the glass. She flitted her eyes up with a long glance, willing to play along for now. There was nothing wrong with flirting, and if she was now on the market after having dumped Ron, she would definitely need to get some practice in. Who better to practice her wiles on than Snape.

 

 

Granger had the temerity to flirt back. Severus was willing to advance this game as far as possible in order to get this corner of the Muggle world back to himself. He had been a spy; he could keep playing this game as far as he needed to reach his goals.

Severus shifted in his seat, spreading his knees a little wider apart. Part of the reason was due to the fact that the way she was looking back at him suddenly stirred something in his loins. He was in no way put off by her youth, viewing it as a validation that he was still young and virile enough to attract her attentions, if she was genuinely interested. If this was merely a ploy to challenge him, he was hoping that a signal of his arousal would certainly make her think twice and finally leave.

To drive the point home, he reached down and adjusted himself in front of her, his hand slipping beneath the table as he repositioned himself.

 

 

Hermione didn't realize it, but upon noticing Snape adjust himself she had unconsciously licked her lips. She couldn't help herself, but she suddenly wondered how well endowed Snape was. Ron was small enough so that when they had finally had sex, he hadn't even torn her hymen. It was more like he stretched it out, and it wasn't quite as “fulfilling” as she had hoped. 

But here was Snape, openly displaying interest in her.

In the midst of trying to decide what to do next, Hermione was interrupted by her friend. Eliza had come back to tell Hermione that she'd have to get home by herself that night as she was taking off with Mr. Bulging Muscles. Hermione smiled and told her friend to call her the next day.

 

 

When the blonde came back to Granger's table, Severus took the opportunity to drain the last of his pint, trying to gauge the interest of this witch. Was she merely parrying his own action in order to provoke a reaction from him, or was she sincerely interested? The way her nipples had become more pronounced, their shadow through her dress becoming more discernible in the light, he could tell that her body was certainly entertaining the idea, though the face seemed to be belying the warring of her thoughts. Despite how she was playing the game, he could see the moments of uncertainty flit across her face, wondering if this was such a wise decision. Of course, being a Gryffindor, this was a challenge and Gryffindors were notorious from never backing down from one. He was a Slytherin, and Slytherins were renown themselves for being resourceful.

When the blonde and her shag for the night left, Severus let Granger see his gaze follow the pair leave. He then raised his eyebrows in question – whether she was game for the same casual encounter.

 

 

Was Snape insinuating he wanted to fuck her? The way he watched Eliza and that fellow leave, and then with his own look he questioned if she was game – it made her stomach suddenly clench and flutter. This was quickly turning from a game into something else a bit more serious. But how serious was a one-night stand?

Her heart was beating just a bit quicker, and her breaths were just a little bit shallower and faster. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Hermione wondered what it would be like to be shagged by Snape. She could imagine her legs spread wide and Snape thrusting into her with savage abandon. And for some reason this was not abhorrent to her, but rather a turn-on. 

Ron was a nice and likeable guy, but he was as sensuous and passionate as a Pygmy Puff. His lack of confidence certainly transferred to the bedroom. He was sweet and light, and about as fulfilling as a lemon iced biscuit when you were hungry for a steak. Snape looked like he wasn't sweet and light, but something intense as his stare and as darkly passionate as he was about Potions. Hermione wondered if she could gorge herself on something like Snape and finally feel satisfied.

Opening her eyes, she decided that maybe a good fuck with Snape was exactly what she needed. Hermione hadn't come to this bar in order to mingle or find a lay, but her intent now was to bed Snape. 

Reaching into her glass, Hermione plucked a single ice cube from her drink and licked the Scotch still clinging to it. Sensuously, she sucked at the piece of ice, running her tongue around it in such a way that there was no confusion in her intent where Snape was concerned. If Snape's flirting was merely a ploy to chase her off, this would surely cause him to leave. If not, this was her signal that she was definitely interested in having more than his eyes on her tits. Either way, she would win.

Reclining back, Hermione took the ice cube and trailed it down her neck and between her breasts, letting it melt against her skin that was still warm from her prior flush of embarrassment. She closed her eyes once more, imagining Snape's hot tongue trailing down where the coldness of the ice cube shrank into nothingness. The chill between her breasts was making her nipples even harder. Her brassiere was almost painful to wear, since her nipples were so very erect, fighting against the cloth confining her breasts.

 

 

Severus could only watch with wanton lust, seeing this normally prim and proper witch suddenly trail that piece of ice down between her breasts, her eyes closed and head tilted back as if offering her neck up in submission to him. Her breasts heaved with each labored breath as the ice cube melted against her skin so quickly. He could imagine his mouth latched onto one nipple and himself thrusting into her, standing firmly planted between her legs.

There was no doubt of her intent, and he was glad to take her up on her offer.

Once she had opened her eyes, he gazed back, his smile knowing and full of promise. He moved the focus of his eyes from her to a small corridor at the back of the bar that led to the loos and storage area. Bringing his eyes back to Granger, he raised his eyebrows once more in question, his smile becoming lopsided.

He didn't think she would go through with it, but she smiled back, her eyes closing and opening subtly in substitute for a nod of agreement to his proposition. Severus was suddenly feeling a bit nervous, but if she wanted to shag, he was certainly up to the task, especially since his erection was now straining against his trousers.

 

 

Snape got up first, rising from his booth, and Hermione now got a better glimpse of the package he was sporting. Never did she think those billowy robes and long black frock coat he wore all those years hid such endowments, but it was plain to see he wasn't small.

She swallowed nervously, or perhaps it was in anxious anticipation. She had heard about how older men were “experienced,” and now she was ready to find out if that old adage was true. Waiting until Snape had entered the corridor, Hermione rose from her own booth, throwing money down on the table for her drink, should the waitress think she had taken off without paying for her drink first. Who knew how long this would take.

Upon entering the corridor, she saw the door to the storage area in the back closing. Hermione was thankful Snape didn't want to shag in the loo. Who knew how smelly and disgusting they were in a place like this.

Placing her hand on the doorknob, she realized that there was no going back. Slipping inside, checking to make sure no one back in the bar spotted her, she closed the door.

No sooner had the door latched shut than she was firmly pressed up against the wall, Snape's tongue down her throat.

It was sudden and thrilling. He tasted surprisingly good, even with that stout he’d been swilling that evening. His tongue moved in ways that sent a violent shudder down her spine, eliciting sensations in her body she had never imagined. He had one hand in her hair, the other about her waist. A plaintive groan of satisfaction escaped her lips, which seemed to spur Snape on to bolder actions.

His hand possessively slid up her ribcage and cupped her breast.

Hermione hands were busy as well, grabbing at his shoulders, her hands eventually slipping up into his hair and entwining her fingers into his long locks.

Their mouths battled and crashed against each other, both taking what they wanted and needed from the other. Snape's tongue probed her mouth in such a way that Hermione wondered if she could entice him into going down on her, something Ron only did begrudgingly. Snape was an exceptionally good kisser such that Hermione couldn't think about what her plan of attack was, lost in the glorious feelings he was eliciting from her body.

 

 

Severus couldn't believe it, but the witch could kiss, like a demon possessed. She tasted sweet and her mouth was hot and wet. He loved the flavor of her, and her scent was gloriously heady. Severus never paid much attention to the scent of the witches he had, but there was something intoxicating about the smell of her that was driving him to want to devour her entirely. Her moans were certainly a turn-on, not being shy about how he was making her feel. She responded to his touch and kisses with a passion to match his own.

This was escalating quickly. He had to have her.

Severus moved her over to a stack of boxes holding various bottles of distilled spirits that was about the right height. Lifting her up by the waist, he plopped her down on it and placed his hands upon her knees to spread them wide so he could stand between them as he continued kissing her. He didn't have to pry them apart as she quickly spread them and pulled Severus back to ravishing her, grasping and clawing at him, yanking at his Harley leather jacket, encouraging him to discard the bulky article of clothing laced with metal snaps and zippers that could scratch and abrade. He ditched it, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.

His hand was back to her breast and he wanted to caress it without having to fight the brassiere she was wearing. Whipping out his wand, he banished her brassiere and noticed how her breasts suddenly hung naturally within the silk jersey dress. 

 

 

Hermione gasped at the sensation of her brassiere suddenly disappearing from Snape's spell. The sudden rush of cool air in the back room seeping through the thin material made her nipples even harder, much to her pleasure and Snape's as well. His hand fumbled a bit as he kissed her until he found the simple cloth tie that held her whole wrap dress together. He loosened the tie and slipped his hand inside her dress, opening it like he was anxiously unwrapping a present on Christmas morning, but careful enough not to tear the fabric.

She gasped with an enthusiastic affirmative when his hands met her bare skin. He palmed her breast once more, unhindered by fabric.

Hermione pulled out her own wand to cast a spell to undo Snape's trousers and yank everything down to hasten their joining, in addition to banishing her own underpants.

Snape pulled back momentarily to give her an encouraging smile, pleased by her eagerness.

They gazed intently at each other as Snape grabbed hold of himself and rubbed himself around her entrance in preparation to enter her. Her mouth hung open upon feeling the tip of his cock nudging against her. She gasped with need, spreading her legs even wider.

Severus pressed himself into her and slid partly in, his eyes shutting tight at her snugness. All he could think was that Weasley was hung like a Niffler for her to be this tight. Withdrawing, he quickly entered her again, deeper, encouraged by the arching of her back, her enthusiastic cries and the twisting of her face in exquisite pleasure.

Hermione grabbed him by the back of his thighs with her calves and ankles. She drew him to her, making him slam fully into her, to the hilt. 

When she let loose a shriek, he wondered if the music was loud enough in the bar to mask the noise.

Bucking wildly against him, Hermione urged him on, wrapping her legs about him. She leaned back against the wall to allow him to penetrate her deeper. He made the most of the position by grabbing her breasts, playing with her nipples and enjoying the sight of her writhing beneath him as he plowed into her over and over again.

Hermione's head was swimming from the sounds coming from Severus, deep and feral noises, narrating how lost he was in his own pleasure of her flesh.

Enthralled by the eroticism of the moment, his unfettered lust, his girth filling her, the curve of his cock stroking her in just the right way, the mental foreplay of silent seduction, the surreal fantasy of an impromptu encounter with a spy with a dangerous streak, Hermione began to orgasm. She had never been so turned on in her entire life; never had sex ever felt this all-encompassing and deliriously mind-blowing. Her barely coherent shouts of praise confessed as much. 

She clenched down around his member, her flesh quivering and pulsing around him as her orgasm rippled through her body, paralyzing her limbs, but making her head thrash from side to side. Only then Severus came, unable to hold out any longer. She was a far better lay than he ever could have imagined, or ever had before. 

Severus gasped and shuddered, breathing her first name in her ear, their first spoken word between them since she had entered the bar.

Hermione loved the sound of her name on his lips and wanted to hear him say it more. He said it with near reverence, as if she was something holy and divine.

Both panting, Severus remained inside of Hermione for a little while longer, lifting his head up to gauge her reaction. He found her smiling at him with a twinkle in her eye.

Before he could even withdraw, she suggested that they go back to his place and continue on there, as she was up for more than just one round. Severus had the strength for maybe one more go at it, but he had Potions that could extend the night as long as she had the stamina to keep up.

Severus withdrew from her warmth and pulled up his underpants and trousers, not even bothering to button or zip anything up, since once they arrived at their destination, his clothes would be coming right back off for the rest of the night. He handed Hermione her undergarments they had spelled to the floor, loosely retied her Halston wrap dress, then grabbed his Harley leather jacket.

It was a good thing that it was a Friday night, considering how long they were holed up in Spinner’s End shagging their brains out. It took the entire weekend for them to get their fill of each other with the promise of meeting for drinks again next Friday, Severus finally willing to share his bar with only this particular witch.


End file.
